Chapter 46 Desperate Struggle for Survival

Chapter 46 Desperate Struggle for Survival

Alarm bells rang in Monica's head. She turned to run, but a rough hand clamped over her mouth.

Her cry for help was trapped in her throat, only managing muffled "mmph" sounds.

"Scream all you want! Let's see who'll come save you!" Derek's breath hit the side of her neck, sticky and disgusting.

In her desperation, a surge of fierce determination rose up.

Without hesitation, Monica opened her mouth and bit down hard on the hand covering her mouth with all her strength.

"Ah!" Derek cried out in pain and instinctively loosened his grip.

Monica seized this split-second opportunity, shoved him away hard, and quickly pulled something from her bag. The dark barrel of a gun pointed precisely at him.

It was a small self-defense pistol she'd pulled countless strings to get after that incident in the alley last time.

The lewd violence on Derek's face instantly froze, replaced by a flash of disbelieving terror.

He hadn't expected this seemingly cold and delicate woman to be carrying something like that.

"Don't do anything stupid!" Derek warned, trying to sound tough but clearly scared, his eyes darting between the gun in her hand and her determined face. "Monica, I'm telling you, don't fight it. Just come with me nicely, or you'll regret it!"

Monica gripped the gun tightly, her palms covered in cold sweat, but her eyes were unusually firm.

She quickly scanned her surroundings. At this hour, the area below the apartment building was deserted, with only the occasional car passing on the distant road. No one would notice anything wrong here.

Her calmness looked like a challenge to Derek.

Alcohol and rage at being defied burned away his last shred of reason.

He let out a sinister laugh and suddenly lunged at her, his lecherous expression making it clear he was certain she wouldn't dare shoot.

"You dare pull that trigger? You little bitch!"

Monica's heart leaped to her throat, the gun barrel locked on his approaching body.

Just as she was about to pull the trigger, Derek's expression suddenly changed. He pointed behind her and shouted in panic, "Shane!"

That name hit Monica's most vulnerable nerve like a curse.

Her brain didn't even have time to think before her body reacted first, instinctively turning to look.

Behind her—nothing.

In that moment of distraction, a triumphant sneer flashed in Derek's eyes. Quick as lightning, he rushed forward and grabbed her wrist, twisting hard.

Sharp pain shot through her. Monica's grip loosened, and her only lifeline instantly fell into Derek's hands.

The situation reversed in an instant.

The cold gun barrel was now pressed hard against her temple.

"You bitch, trying to play games with me?" Derek's breathing was heavy, his face showing both relief and even more unhinged madness.

All the blood in Monica's body ran cold. She froze in place, not daring to move an inch.

Derek tapped her forehead hard with the gun barrel, then grabbed a fistful of her long hair. The brutal force sent tearing pain through her scalp, forcing her head back.

"Move!" He dragged her by the hair, roughly pulling her toward a car parked in the shadows.

The tearing pain in her scalp made Monica's vision go black. She was forced to stumble after Derek, her high heels twisting on the rough cement. A sharp pain shot through her ankle.

Deep in the night, the security booth at the community entrance was dimly lit and wouldn't notice the struggle in the corner.

She opened her mouth to call for help, but the sound was torn apart by the night wind, barely carrying any distance.

Despair rose like cold seawater, drowning her inch by inch.

No, she couldn't give up like this.

As she was being dragged, Monica suddenly remembered something.

Derek had smashed her personal phone, but in her bag, she still had her work phone!

That was her last hope.

She endured the tearing pain in her scalp and the fear in her heart. One hand was gripped tightly by Derek, but her other hand, hanging at her side, frantically searched through her bag. Derek was immersed in the violent pleasure of total control and didn't notice her movements.

Finally, she felt the cold metal.

Working from memory, she unlocked it, opened the pinned conversation, her fingers trembling so badly they could barely function, and used all her strength to press the location sharing button she normally never used.

[Save me]

Two words—her only distress signal at this moment.

The instant the message sent successfully, Derek seemed to sense something. He suddenly stopped and slammed her against the car door. Her back hit the cold metal, making her gasp in pain.

"You bitch, what the fuck are you doing?" He roughly grabbed her bag and dumped everything out.

The work phone with its screen still lit lay on the ground, showing her conversation with Shane.

Derek's face instantly twisted with rage. The fury of betrayal and being fooled completely ignited.

"Smack—"

A loud slap landed hard on Monica's face.

Her head snapped to the side, her ears ringing, her mouth instantly filling with the taste of blood.

"Still trying to call for help? Let's see who the fuck can save you!" Derek seemed to lose it completely. He stomped on the phone, then, still not satisfied, kicked Monica hard in her curled-up abdomen.

The intense pain made her instantly curl up like a cooked shrimp.

"I'm gonna have you tonight, and when Shane shows up, he can either collect your body or watch our live show!" He sneered, yanked the car door open, and roughly shoved the now-defenseless Monica inside.

The car tore through the dark night, finally stopping in the underground garage of a luxury apartment building.

This was Derek's place.

Monica was dragged into the elevator, dragged into the apartment, then thrown hard onto the floor.



The buttons of her cashmere coat were violently torn open, cold air rushing in.

Derek, like a beast that had lost all reason, pinned her down and started tearing at her clothes.

Humiliation and terror surged over her like a tide, nearly drowning her.

Stay calm, Monica, you have to stay calm!

She screamed at herself internally, forcing herself to find a sliver of breathing room in this suffocating despair.

"Derek," she spoke, her voice hoarse from fear and pain but trying to maintain composure, "let's talk."

Derek's movements paused, as if he found it amusing.

He looked up, grabbed her chin, his face showing undisguised lewdness and contempt. "Talk? What do you want to talk about? How much of a slut you are, or what position we should use?"

Monica's stomach churned with nausea, but she knew this was her only chance.

"Why are you doing this?" She met his bloodshot eyes. "To get revenge on me? Or to force my mom to agree?"